


Hamadryad Blues

by sister_wolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-03
Updated: 2006-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/sister_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam runs into one of Dean's exes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hamadryad Blues

"I hate you," Sam muttered as he entered their motel room and threw his keys on the dresser. "Seriously, man. Hate."

"Nobody likes a hater, Sammy," Dean smirked, closing the door behind them.

"Hey, I'm the one who had to sit there all night and listen to your ex-girlfriend the hamadryad --"

"Wood nymph."

"Same thing."

"Yeah, but nymph sounds sexier," Dean said, sitting down on the bed and starting to take his boots off.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine, your ex-girlfriend the _wood nymph_ cry into her beer about how you took off on her without even saying goodbye, just left her a note. A _note_ , Dean. Classy. Then she starts telling me what a great guy you are, deep down, and how much she misses you--"

"What can I say, chicks go crazy over me."

"And then-- and _then!_ \-- she starts going into detail about your _sex life_. I'm scarred now, mentally. Scarred for life." Slouching uncomfortably on the motel room's only chair, which kind of looked like it might collapse at any second, Sam booted up his laptop.

There was an expectant silence. Finally, Dean prodded, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What'd she say, man?"

Sam made a face at him. "I'm not telling you _that_."

"Well, it's _my_ sex life."

"No."

"Why not?"

" _No_. Anyway, after all that she asked if you'd been seeing anyone."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You lied, right? 'Cause I gotta tell you, she's like two hundred years old and pretty powerful, and I don't really want her pissed off at me." Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Dean unpacked his whetstone and oil, sliding his bootknife out of its sheath and looking at it critically.

Off-handedly, Sam said, "Oh, I told her the truth."

Dean groaned. "Awww man. She's gonna try to kill me. Fuck, I hate it when that happens."

"Yeah, how it was a real shame you picked up that crotch-rot off that zombie we fought in Cleveland last month--"

"You told her _what?_ "

"--but I was sure that if the reattachment surgery worked--"

" _Reattachment?_ " Sam hadn't heard Dean's voice hit that high a note in years.

"--you'd be sure to look her up again, but in the meantime, it might be best if she tried to move on and find someone else."

Silence.

"I hate you."

"Hey, look on the bright side," Sam said cheerfully. "At least she won't be trying to kill you for cheating on her."

"Seriously, man. Hate."

"Nobody likes a hater, Dean."


End file.
